


little things

by thespacenico



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, allura is alive, so is adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23841154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespacenico/pseuds/thespacenico
Summary: Lance falls in love with Keith more and more each day, with every little thing about him.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 484





	little things

**Author's Note:**

> my piece for the klance ...and we are beginning zine!

The first time that Lance proposes, Keith locks him out of their apartment.

It’s summer, and the air is warm with the colors of the setting sun, and they drive home with the windows down because Lance likes to watch Keith’s hair go wild and eyes crinkle at the corners while he’s singing his lungs out to whatever’s on the radio. It all makes Lance feel very warm; from the wind blowing through their hair, and the tilt of Keith’s lips when he kisses him behind the car, to Keith’s fingers tangled with his own as they climb the stairs together to their door with a handful of groceries in tow. 

It’s the little things, Lance thinks. Little things, like the way that Keith mutters absent-mindedly to himself while he fumbles with their keys, and the way he has to keep blowing that single piece of hair out of his eyes because it’s not quite long enough to stay in his ponytail. Little things that to someone else seem simple and mundane, but to Lance are what make his smile grow and heart skip unapologetically.

“I think we forgot to buy stuff for salad,” Keith is saying to no one in particular, and the way he does is so endearingly innocent that Lance can’t help but smile. 

“I’m pretty sure we’ll survive without it,” he huffs, nudging Keith’s shoulder with his own. 

“We said we’d bring some to Allura’s coronation party.” 

“She’ll forgive us.” 

“It’s not her I’m worried about,” Keith grumbles as he finally gets a handle on the keys and starts to unlock their door, oblivious to the way that Lance has inched backward and started to slowly lower himself onto one knee, setting his few grocery bags aside. “Hunk is the nicest person I’ll ever meet, but he can be scary. He’s like the Gordon Ramsay of space cuisine, I don’t want to be on his bad side for forgetting  _ salad  _ of all things—”

He turns back to look at Lance, mouth turned up, brow quirked, most likely waiting for some kind of reaction—only for his eyes to widen the moment they fall on Lance. He jerks backward with a small yelp and loses his grip on the keys, which hit the floor with a clatter.

“Wh—you—” he sputters. “Lance, what are you—” 

“Whoa, babe.” Lance holds out one hand placatingly, trying desperately to keep a straight face. “Calm down. Will you—” 

“In the  _ hallway?”  _ Keith hisses, looking rather betrayed by such a suggestion, lips parted in shock and cheeks dusted a pretty shade of pink that’s quickly deepening as he looks both directions for any potential eavesdroppers. 

Lance barely wills himself to keep it together. “Keith, look at me.” Keith does, his expression seemingly torn between panic and disbelief; maybe both. Luckily it keeps him frozen in place, feet rooted to the floor as Lance takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“I was just going to ask… will you wait for me while I tie my shoe.” 

The range of emotions through which Keith’s face cycles in the next twenty seconds of absolute silence is impressive, to say the least. Not to mention totally and utterly  _ priceless.  _ Lance bites down on the inside of his cheek while Keith’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, until all that’s left is a blank stare as Lance holds his breath and waits for a response.

“I hate you.”

A surprised breath of laughter forces its way out of Lance’s mouth as Keith promptly turns and pushes his way through the door. 

“What—aw, c’mon babe, don’t be like that—Keith, wait—” He stumbles to his feet, but he’s too late to catch the door before it’s flying shut and he hears the lock slide into place.

Lance all but falls against the door, giggling and struggling to keep quiet so as not to disturb their neighbors. “Hey, what? I was just trying to tie my shoe!” He presses his cheek to the door, trying but failing miserably to keep the smile out of his voice. “Oh, Keith… did you think I was—”

“I’m not talking to you,” comes Keith’s muffled reply.

“I’m flattered,” Lance snorts, jiggling the doorknob even though he knows it’s hopeless. “Really. But hey, would you have said yes?”

“What’s that?” Keith calls. “I, uh, I can’t quite hear you. Guess you’ll just have to try again later.” 

(Keith lets him back in, eventually. “Only because you have the rest of the groceries,” he mutters, and pointedly ignores the way that Lance grins at his back.)

。·:*:·ﾟ★。·:*:·ﾟ☆

(Little things, like the way that Keith sleeps curled up on his side, and unconsciously nuzzles closer to Lance in the middle of the night for warmth, so they end up in a tangle of limbs when they wake. Things like how some days, Lance can’t even make it out of bed before Keith is dragging him back down and latching onto him, unwilling to let go.)

Lance thinks he could grow to be a morning person.

“Jus’ five more minutes,” Keith mumbles into the back of Lance’s neck one morning, cinching his arms around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as possible.

Lance lets out a raspy breath of laughter, trying unsuccessfully to pry Keith’s hands away from his stomach. “Yeah, right. It’s never ‘just’ five minutes with you.”

“Promise,” Keith whines.

Lance rolls over to face him with a sigh, slinging an arm over his side. “Keith.” 

“Mm.”

“You’re not gonna get out of bed unless you let  _ me  _ get out of bed.” 

“Exactly,” Keith replies, eyes still closed.

“You’re going to be late for your supply run.” 

Keith shifts closer to press his face into Lance’s chest. “They’ll survive without me,” he insists, voice muffled. 

Lance chuckles softly, brushing his fingers through Keith’s hair. “Alright, fine. Five more minutes.” 

Keith hums, leaning into Lance’s touch as he settles himself against him once more. “Love you,” he murmurs.

Lance’s mouth twitches up into a smile, and he leans down to press a kiss into Keith’s hair. “Love you,” he whispers.

(Little things, like the way Keith blearily stumbles into the kitchen fifteen minutes later with an adorable pout on his face and reattaches himself to Lance’s back, because Lance snuck out of bed to make Keith’s coffee the second he fell asleep.)

Just as the light on the brewer clicks off to signal that it’s finished, Lance hears the telltale sound of Keith’s socks scuffing across the kitchen floor. He fails to hold back a smile when he feels Keith’s arms slipping around his waist and forehead thumping against his shoulder.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Lance says softly, turning to press another kiss in Keith’s hair. “Again.”

“Mm,” is Keith’s response, arms tightening instinctively around Lance’s waist when Lance moves to reach for Keith’s mug.

“Babe, you gotta let go of me or I can’t make your coffee.” 

“Nooo,” Keith mumbles into his shoulder. “I don’need it.”

Lance chuckles, twisting around in Keith’s arms until they’re standing chest to chest and forcing Keith to lift his head in the process. He squints against the kitchen lights and Lance smiles, hopelessly endeared. 

“I think you do,” he hums, leaning in to peck Keith’s nose. “Because I’m pretty sure Kolivan doesn’t want anyone piloting his ships when they’re half-asleep.”

“I’m a great pilot,” Keith protests.

Lance smiles again, lifting his hands up to pat Keith’s cheeks. “I know you are,” he agrees honestly, and then leans back in to kiss his pout away. 

Yeah. Lance could definitely grow to be a morning person. 

(Little things, like the way Keith squeezes Lance’s shoulder and kisses his cheek before they part. Little things like a smile and a wave, and a promise to be back home in time for dinner.)

It still feels strange sometimes, walking into the Garrison every day without Keith there at his side. It feels strange to go anywhere without him, really; all those years in space together make his absence all that much more noticeable.

Lucky for him, space cadets  _ love _ stories. Lance is more than willing to oblige them when they ask if it means he gets to talk about Keith, because then he doesn’t feel quite so far away.

“So there I was,” Lance is saying, arms spread wide for dramatic effect while his students watch in silence, completely enraptured by it all. “Lying on the floor, inches away from unconsciousness, while Sendak had Pidge in his evil, metal grasp...” 

He folds his hands behind his back and slowly walks across the front of the room, acutely aware of every pair of eyes following him intently. “It wasn’t looking very good for us. But then!” He comes to an abrupt halt and thrusts a finger in the air, causing several cadets in the front row to jump. “I managed to activate my bayard and blast Sendak in the back, just in time.” 

“Then what?” The boy directly in front of him blurts, leaning forward eagerly. “Was that it? Did you get him?”

Lance’s eyes fall and he shakes his head mournfully, biting back an amused grin at the sound of a quiet, collective gasp around the room. He lets the silence remain suspended for a moment, just to sell it. “But Keith and Allura managed to detain him after that, so we regained control of the Castle and everyone was fine.”

The entire class breathes out in relief as Lance leans back against his desk. “Although, Keith had taken a real nasty hit earlier. Passed out from the pain just as I got to him.” He sighs wistfully, pressing a hand against his chest. “I cradled him in my arms.”

“Funny,” someone chimes in, and it takes Lance a good second or two to register the familiar blend of something amused and exasperated all at once, in a voice that’s too deep and husky to belong to one of his students. “Pretty sure it was the other way around.”

There’s a long chorus of “ _ ooo _ ”s as Lance turns from his perch on the desk to see none other than Keith watching him from the doorway. Lance is helpless to the smile that crosses his face at the sight of him leaning against the threshold, arms folded, mouth turned up into a fond smile and a small bundle of flowers held delicately in one hand. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, standing to meet Keith as he starts across the room. “I thought you were supposed to be heading to Krell to meet up with the Blade.”

Keith’s cheeks flush a little as he glances at the small sea of onlooking cadets. “I just wanted to see you before I go,” he says sheepishly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear as he holds out the flowers. 

Lance hums as he takes them, taking an exaggerated whiff and peeking at the class over the bright purple petals. “Take notes, kids,” he grins, and a round of giggles erupts around the room as he pulls Keith in by the waist and kisses his cheek. “Thanks, Keith. You didn’t have to.” 

Keith shrugs. “I wanted to.” 

(Little things, like the way Keith looks down and tucks another piece of hair behind his ear to hide a smile and a blush—)

“And I had the time, so…” 

Lance resists the urge to take Keith’s face in his hands and kiss him full on the mouth, right then and there. Instead, he settles for a smile and carefully places the flowers across his desk. “Do you have time to tell us a story?” 

Keith stiffens against Lance’s side as all eyes in the room turn toward him, and he instinctively presses closer. “You  _ know  _ I’m not good at telling stories,” he mutters under his breath, eyes darting toward the door like he’s considering making a break for it.

“C’mon, just one,” Lance murmurs back, nonchalantly tightening his hold around Keith’s side. “For the kids.” 

“But I don’t—” 

“Please?” Lance asks sweetly, shooting Keith the best puppy eyes he can muster. 

Keith opens his mouth to protest but falters when his eyes return to the students still watching them, overwhelmingly eager and expectant. Lance does his best to hold back a grin as Keith seems to flounder for a moment, mouth snapping shut while he searches for something to say.

The room is silent for a moment, and then:

“We had a bonding moment.” 

“Oh, come on!” Lance cries, finally letting go of Keith and lightly pushing him away when he starts laughing, both of them earning confused stares from the majority of the cadets. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” 

Keith smirks, reaching out to smooth the collar of Lance’s uniform and leaving his hand on his shoulder. “Never.” 

“I already told you I’d make it up to you,” Lance grumbles.

“And how are you gonna do that?”

Lance clicks his tongue, feigning consideration. “I don’t know,” he sing-songs, and Keith squints at him. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” He plants both hands on Keith’s shoulders and turns him around before he can respond. “Now get out of here before you’re late and I get an angry call from Kolivan. I don’t wanna be on his bad side.” 

“Not like he has a good side to begin with,” Keith snorts, willingly following Lance’s line of trajectory and missing the way that Lance subtly tucks something from his desk into his back pocket.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Lance says, just before Keith reaches the door. 

And then the room erupts into complete and utter chaos as Keith turns to find Lance down on one knee. 

Keith’s eyes widen and his entire face flushes pink, almost enough to make the scar on his cheek disappear entirely as half the class scrambles to pull their phones out. Everyone is simultaneously talking over and shushing one another so they can hear what happens next, chairs and desks scraping across the floor in attempts to get the best view. 

There’s a moment of charged, anticipatory silence as Keith and Lance stare at each other. 

“What,” Keith finally begins, slowly. “are you doing.” 

Lance smiles innocently up at him, slowly reaching into his back pocket and trying his best to look sincere. “Babe, listen... I know this is sort of a weird time to do this, but—”

“Is that a Ring Pop?” someone yells. 

Lance closes his hand around the candy in question behind his back with a grimace, at the same time that Keith’s head snaps back and forth between him and the class, his expression morphing into one of utter disbelief in a split second. “Oh my  _ god,  _ Lance.” 

“I was just—” Lance holds the Ring Pop out for Keith to see, struggling to ignore the whistles and shrieking laughter of his students as they all catch on to what’s happening. “—gonna ask if you would take this Ring Pop as a token of my love for you—”

“I’m leaving,” Keith announces, and swiftly turns on his heel and marches out into the hallway.

“Wait!” Lance laughs, stumbling to his feet and leaning past the threshold to call after him. “You’re still coming home for dinner, right? Keith? Honey? Light of my life?”

He can practically  _ hear _ the smirk in Keith’s voice. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he calls back without turning, and then disappears around the corner without another word.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” 

“Professor McClain!” 

Lance turns back to the class, fully aware of the big, dopey grin on his face as they all stare back at him. “Hm?” One of the students raises his hand.

“Can I have the Ring Pop?”

。·:*:·ﾟ★。·:*:·ﾟ☆

If someone were to ask, Lance doesn’t think that he’d be able to single out the exact moment that it all clicked. Maybe because there wasn’t one. There was no loud awakening, no grand realization, no sudden lightbulb that went off in his head. He doesn’t think it matters, anyway.

It just took him a while to understand what it all really meant.

Keith comes home later some nights than others, all depending on how far out into space he’s had to travel throughout the day. Lance always waits up for him, even when Keith tells him not to. He’d like to say it’s because he’s a gentleman, and it is—partly. It may also have to do with the fact that Lance can’t seem to fall asleep without him, no matter how hard he tries.

Either way, it never feels quite like home until Keith is there. 

Like tonight, when he trudges through the door of their apartment, kicks off his boots, and all but falls into Lance’s chest, where he’s been reading on the couch to pass the time.

Lance laughs quietly, setting his book aside and wrapping one arm around Keith’s back. “Welcome home, sweetheart. Long day?”

Keith shakes his head slightly, wrinkling Lance’s shirt. “Missed you, s’all.” 

A smile tugs at Lance’s mouth and he wraps his other arm around Keith’s back, pressing a quick kiss into his hair. “Want me to heat up some leftovers?”

“No,” Keith answers, head leaning heavily against Lance’s chest. “Just wanna be with you right now.”

And something—clicks. Something about the way Keith melts against his chest as they fall into a comfortable silence, and the feeling of his body rising and falling with soft, quiet breaths—it all suddenly leaves Lance light-headed and breathless, because something about it all just feels right. It feels so, so right. 

Lance has never been so completely and utterly  _ sure. _

Keith makes a small noise of complaint when Lance suddenly shifts, sliding out from underneath him and climbing to his feet. “Lance?” 

Lance doesn’t answer, moving toward one end of the coffee table in the middle of the living room and bending over to place his hands on its edge. Keith pushes himself up into a sitting position, brow furrowed in confusion as Lance starts to push.

“Lance, what are you doing?” 

“We,” Lance grunts with a final shove, before he straightens once more and dusts his hands off with a flourish. “are going to dance.”

Keith blinks up at him. “What?” 

“C’mon.” Lance holds a hand out, wiggling his fingers expectantly.

“What—” Keith repeats, and then abruptly cuts himself off when he finally seems to understand. “Wait, Lance, no—”

“Lance,  _ yes,”  _ Lance grins, stepping forward to take both of Keith’s hands in his. 

Keith drops his head back and groans, despite making no effort to stop Lance from pulling him up off the couch and into the center of the living room. And no sooner has Keith begrudgingly placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder with a sigh, than he’s laughing into the quiet of their apartment as Lance spins him around the room. Lance dips him toward the floor, pulls him up, extends an arm so Keith can twirl outward before reeling him right back into his chest.

Even then, it’s not long before they’ve already drifted into something slow, and gentle. Keith’s hand is steadying on Lance’s shoulder, his other warm and soft in Lance’s own. Lance rests another delicate hand on Keith’s waist to keep him close, cheeks pressed together as they sway around the room in a silent, soothing dance.

Lance’s heart is still racing. It’s not because of the dancing.

“Hey, Keith?” 

Keith hums in acknowledgment, the sound of it vibrating right down to Lance’s chest as they continue to sway. 

Lance swallows, readjusting his grip on Keith’s hand. “I’m out of Ring Pops.” 

There’s a brief moment where Keith seems to stiffen almost imperceptibly, before he relaxes just as quickly. He chuckles, light and airy, his breath a puff of warm air that tickles Lance’s ear and sends shivers running down his spine. “I’d say that’s a good thing, only I’m sure you’ll find something else just as clever to substitute them with.” 

Lance’s heart skips a beat in his chest. “How about the real thing?” he whispers.

They’ve stopped moving.

Keith’s grip on Lance’s hand has noticeably tightened, and only grows tighter when Lance gradually pulls back to face him properly. Their eyes lock, and it suddenly strikes Lance that all of this— _ every little thing _ —has been leading up to this moment.

He slowly lowers himself onto one knee, and all of time seems to stand still.

For a moment, neither of them move. Lance is glad he’s already kneeling, because the way that Keith is looking at him now, Lance is sure his legs would have given out at the sight of it.

He licks his lips as he swipes his thumb over Keith’s knuckles, gripping his hand like an anchor, and takes a short breath.

“Keith…” His voice wavers almost immediately, and he pauses to take another steadying breath. Keith’s eyes are wide as he stares down at him, his free hand curled close to his stomach like he’s not sure what to do with it. “I know I’ve sort of made a joke out of the whole proposal thing,” Lance continues around the lump that’s already started to form in his throat, even though he told himself he would make it through before breaking down. “But never you. I’ve always been serious about you.”

He has to pause once more just to collect himself, clearing his throat. Keith has fallen silent, eyes shining as he waits for Lance to go on.

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t even imagine what my life was like before you. We’ve been through—so much. We’ve been through all there is to go through together, and none of it has ever even come close to breaking us apart.”

Keith’s lashes flutter and he lets out a sharp, shaky breath, while Lance feels the beginnings of his own tears start to sting the backs of his eyes.

He slips his free hand into his pocket, and the first tear slips down Keith’s cheek when he produces a small blue box and carefully flips it open to reveal a single, golden band. Lance blinks away the tears that have started to blur his vision, which return just as quickly when Keith squeezes his hand in silent encouragement.

“Keith,” he chokes out. A small whimper escapes Keith’s lips as he drops his face into his hand, grip tightening that much more around Lance’s fingers. “Will you marry me?”

Lance would’ve waited an eternity for Keith’s answer, if he had to. The long moment of silence that stretches out after that almost feels like one, but the immediate rush of anticipation when Keith finally pulls his hand away from his face is more than worth it.

He can’t tear his eyes away from Keith as he sinks to his knees in front of him. His hair is a bit of a mess from the dancing, his face is streaked with tears, and his smile is watery but— _ god,  _ he’s beautiful. 

Keith’s hands are trembling as he reaches forward to take Lance’s face in his hands, and Lance’s breath catches in his throat when he tilts forward to press their foreheads together.

“I would’ve said yes the first time,” Keith whispers. 

Lance laughs, breathing shaky and uneven as he buries his fingers in Keith’s hair, holding him close. “Even if I’d asked you in the hallway?” 

“Anywhere,” Keith sniffs, wiping gently at a tear clinging to Lance’s cheekbone. “As long as it’s with you.”

(Little things, like the way that Keith kisses Lance the same way he always has: slow and sweet, each press of his lips like a new promise against Lance’s skin. Things like a flash of gold between entwined fingers, and quiet “I love you”s throughout the rest of the night.)

In the end, Lance thinks, after catching Keith smiling down at his ring for the dozenth time that evening: he was right. 

It’s the little things.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.thespacenico.tumblr.com)!  
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/thespacenico/)!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/thespacenico)!  
> 


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